PC-NRLF 


SB    111    flSS 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


AMELIA  JOSEPHINE  BURR 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


"And  this  shall  be  for  music 

when  none  else  is  near, 
"The  sweet  song  for  singing,  the 

rare  song  to  hear, 
"That  only  I  remember  and  only 

you  admire, 
"Of  the  broad  Road  that  stretches 

and  the  Roadside  Fire." 

R.  L.  S. 


Copyright  1912 
By  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


M  Y 


T  o 
FATHER  AND 


MOTHER 


345091 


A  number  of  the  poems  in  this  volume  are  here  included 
through  the  courtesy  of  the  publishers  of  The  Century 
Magazine,  Scribner's  Magazine,  The  Bellman,  The  De 
signer,  Hampton's,  St.  Nicholas,  The  Catholic  World, 
Harper's  Bazaar,  Everybody's  Magazine,  and  Putnam's 
Magazine,  in  which  magazines  they  first  appeared. 


CONTENTS 


CONTENTS 

Page 

To  Those  Who  Take  the  Road  ....  15 

Outward  Bound 16 

The  Common  Way 17 

The  Hand  of  God 19 

The  Dolourous  Way 21 

Credo 22 

Borglum's  Lincoln 23 

We  Have  Piped  Unto  You 25 

The  True  Atlas 27 

Battle-Song  of  Failure 29 

Magdalen  to  Christ 31 

Baldur  in  Niflheim 32 

In  April 35 

A  Churchyard  in  the  Rain 36 

Two  Rest-Songs 37 

A  Prayer  at  Evening 39 

Bocklin's  Portrait  of  Himself  with  Death  as 

a  Fiddler 40 

Tusitala 41 

The  Childless 42 

At  Bethlehem 47 

_ 


CONTENTS 


Page 

His  Mother 50 

Irish  Mothers 51 

[carus 52 

Lilith 53 

The  Ghost-Flower 55 

Shiela  in  the  West 56 

A  Vagrant 58 

The  Loon 60 

The  Strayed  Elf 61 

Tuscan  Song 62 

An  Epitaph 64 

The  Loser 65 

Lie-Awake  Songs 67 

Night  in  Assisi 69 

Venice 70 

Edinburgh  Vignettes 

Argyll  and  Montrose  in  St.  Giles*    .      .  72 

Trees  in  the  Castle 73 

Arthur's  Seat 74 

Queen  Mary 75 

Greyfriars  Bobby 76 

At  Carmarthen 77 

Michelangelo's  Pieta 78 

Where  Love  Is 80 

[10] 


CONTENTS 


Page 
Bittersweet 

1.  Buds  in  Autumn 82 

2.  In  His  Eyes 83 

3.  At  the  Mirror 84 

^.     Impotent 85 

5.  The  Day  of  Days 86 

6.  From  Far  Away 87 

7.  Good-bye 88 

8.  Comfort 89 

9.  The  Rest  is  Silence 90 

Meeting 91 

The  Sting  of  Death 92 

Worn  Out 93 

Not  Guilty 94 

Empty  Houses 95 

A  Dialogue 96 

Rudel  Sings  of  His  Lady 97 

Costanza 99 

The  Unfulfilled .      ..100 

To  a  Young  Girl 101 

The  Spring — and  You 102 

Partnership 104 

Afterward 105 

To  Her — Unspoken 106 

The  Unknown  God 108 

The  Patteran no 


THE      ROADSIDE     FIRE 


THE    ROADSIDE  *F'I 


i 


TO  THOSE  WHO  TAKE 
THE  ROAD 

7E  comrades  of  the  coming  time 

Whose  faces  I  foresee, 
These  little  roadside  fires  of  rhyme 
Are  all  you  know  of  me. 

LEAVE  you  as  I  pass  along 

A  swiftly  fading  spark; 
The  echo  of  a  marching  song 
That  dies  upon  the  dark; 


B 


UT  happy  ere  the  glimmer  die 

Another's  hand  may  light 
A  beacon  where  my  embers  lie, 
To  shout  across  the  night. 


[15] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


OUTWARD  BOUND 

T  TNFADED,  give  them  to  the  deep, 

These  flowers,  the  sweetest  of  the  land. 
See,  as  they  fall,  a  billow  leap 
To  clasp  them  in  its  great  white  hand ! 


N 


O  morrow  and  no  yesterday 

For  their  frail  loveliness  may  be, 
Held  like  a  pearl  from  earth's  decay 
By  the  imperishable  Sea. 


[16] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


T 


T 


THE  COMMON  WAY 

HERE'S  an  hour  for  each  when  the  angels' 

speech 

To  the  tongue  of  man  is  given  — 
When  earth  is  crossed  as  at  Pentecost 
By  the  rushing  fires  of  Heaven; 
But  the  common  way  is  for  everyday, 
And  we  common  folk  must  face  it 
With  a  common  smile  for  each  common 

mile 
And  the  little  flowers  that  grace  it. 

r 
O  trudge  and  trust  in  the  daily  dust 

With  a  comrade  tried  and  cheery, — 
To  lift  the  eyes  to  the  heartening  skies 
When  the  plodding  feet  grow  weary, 
Is  to  bless  the  Road,  and  the  hopes  that 

goad 

And  the  beckoning  stars  that  guide  me. 
The  common  way  that's  for  everyday 
Is  the  way  you  walk  beside  me. 

__ 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  COMMON  WAY  (continued) 

'TnHE  world  must  plod  at  the  call  of  God 
•*•       On  a  weary  march  and  holy, 

From  best  to  best,  toward  an  end  unguessed, 

But  slowly  —  slowly  —  slowly. 

So  the  lot  we  bear  with  all  life  we  share, 

And  the  Goal  of  all  life's  growing; 

For  the  common  way  that's  for  everyday 

Is  the  way  of  God's  own  going. 


[18] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD 

(For  the  statue  by  Rodin  in  the  Metropolitan  Museum.) 


T 


HEY  cannot  understand 

What  draws  them  each  to  each ; 
In  vain  they  strive  to  tether 
With  futile  ties  of  speech 
The  hidden  Power  that  caught  them 
Despite  themselves,  and  brought  them 
For  joy  or  pain,  together 
In  bond  too  close  for  breach. 


COME  struggle  to  withstand 

The  closing  fingers'  might 
That  welds  them  all  unwilling  — 
And  other  lives  unite 
Dreaming  in  joy  impassioned 
That  they  themselves  have  fashioned 
Their  destiny's  fulfilling 
In  all  the  Fates'  despite. 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  (continued) 


A 


I 


ND  others  the  command 

Obey,  they  know  not  why; 
They  find  nor  cross  nor  treasure 
They  only  live  and  die. 
Men  call  it  "love" — expressing 
A  truth  beyond  their  guessing, 
Since  I  no  words  can  measure 
Am  Love,  and  Love  is  I. 


N  my  eternal  Hand 

I  crush  them  silently, 
Shaping  the  creature  human 
To  ends  it  cannot  see. 
Unsparing  and  unwasting, 
Relenting  not  nor  hasting, 
I  mould  of  man  and  woman 
The  god  that  is  to  be. 


[20] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  DOLOUROUS  WAY 

CAD  soul  that  criest  in  despair 

And  bitter  pain, 

Dost  weep  because  thou  needs  must  go 
In  laden  weakness  bending  low? 

I  chose  the  burden  that  I  bear, 
Nor  can  complain. 


i 


S  it  because  thy  feet  have  stained 
With  blood  the  way? 

Why  should  I  weep  that  I  must  tread 
Upon  the  path  which  I  have  spread? 
These  are  the  shards  of  cups  I  drained 
But  yesterday. 


T 


HEN  tell  me  why  such  grief  is  thine  — 
My  agony 

Is  knowing  all  my  penance  vain 
To  clear  the  pathway  of  one  pain 
For  those  whose  feet  shall  follow  mine 
In  days  to  be. 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


CREDO 

thing  I  know:  that  from  the  wasted 

years 
When  shaken  with  false  hopes  and  falser 

fears 
My  blinded  heart  to  gods  of  clay  was  cling 

ing, 
Though  trembling  still  from  night's  long 

fever-dream, 
Forward,    into    the    dawn's   calm    crescent 

beam 
Now  I  go  singing. 


T   KNOW  not  by  what  sovereign  alchemy 
•*•       God's  transmutations  must  accomplished  be, 
Nor  how  the  dunghill  to  the  rose  can  waken, 
But  as  one  blossom  types  the  tree,  I  know 
As  one  soul  grows,  mankind  from  pain  shall 

grow 
To  joy  unshaken. 


[22] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BORGLUM'S  LINCOLN 

T7ROM  a  shop- window  that  grand  face  sur- 
•**  veys 

The  street's  gay,  piteous  pageant;  sad  and 

great, 

Set  like  a  prophet  in  the  market-place, 
A  man  of  sorrows  and  Grief's  intimate, 
He  sees  the  old  hypocrisy  and  shame, 
Meanness  and  pride,  surge  past  him  still  the 
same. 

HIS  dream  was  one  with  God's  —  a  people 
freed; 

A  race  of  slaves  his  wistful  eyes  behold, 
Shackled  with  ignorance  and  scourged  by 

greed  — 
Yet   in   those   eyes  the   dreams  have   not 

grown  cold. 

A  younger  brother  of  the  Crucified, 
He  trusts  in  man  the  God  for  whom  he 

died. 

[23] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


BORGLUM'S  LINCOLN  (continued) 

T?ATHER,  we  pray  thee  in  this  holy  place, 
•*•       Here,  in  the  city's  turbulent  midstream, 

That  we  may  turn  from  that  majestic  face 

Touched    with    the    patient   passion    of   thy 
Dream, 

In  the  marred  flotsam  of  the  crowd  to  see 

Thy  miracle  of  Possibility. 


[24] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


WE  HAVE  PIPED  UNTO  YOU 

(For  a  statue  by  Gutzon  Borglum.) 

HE  piped  to  him  first  of  the  glory  of  youth; 

"  When  its  splendour 
"  Touches    his    eyelids    like    morning,"    she 

thought,  "  he  will  wake." 
But  he  heard  not  a  sound  of  the  sweetness 

imploring  and  tender 

She  made  for  his  sake. 


'TpHEN  she  piped  him  the  lure  of  cold  peaks 
•*•  and  the  wilderness  calling  — 

The  mortal  desire  for  the  dim,  unattaina 

ble  goal  — 

But  she  knew  as  she  piped  that  her  notes 
like  dead  planets  were  falling 

Through  the  night  of  his  soul. 


[25] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


WE  HAVE  PIPED  UNTO  YOU  (continued) 


she  piped  once  again;  and  of  love  was 

the  music  she  made  him  — 
The  love  of  Humanity  linked  with  the  love 

of  the  One. 
Dreaming,  he  smiled  in  his  sleep  and  more 

easily  laid  him. 

And  her  piping  was  done. 

HE   turned   away   silent  —  and   lacking   the 

strain  that  had  lulled  him, 
Keen  stole  the   hush   to   his  heart  like  the 

search  of  a  knife. 
He  stirred  —  he  awoke  —  he  arose  from  the 

dreams  that  had  dulled  him 
To  anguish  —  and  life. 


[26] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  TRUE  ATLAS 

(For  the  statue  by  Gutzon  Borglum.) 

O  sullen  slave  whose  loth  feet  plod 

Weighed  down  with  burdens  heavy  piled, 
Kneeling  she  lifts  the  world  to  God 
As  she  would  lift  a  child. 


N 


A 


LL  Woman  here  the  master's  art 

Has  quickened  in  the  sentient  stone, 
Since  Motherhood  is  of  the  heart, 
Not  of  the  flesh  alone. 


T 


HAT  one  whose  body  to  her  will 
Has  borne  its  fruitage  bittersweet, 
And  she  who  craved  in  vain  the  thrill 
Of  wakening  hands  and  feet, 


QHE  who  has  never  held  her  own, 

^     Except  in  dreams,  upon  her  breast  — 

The  mother  who  has  proved  and  known, 

And  she  who  has  but  guessed, 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  TRUE  ATLAS  (continued) 

T  TNITE  in  Her  who  raises  earth 
^^      In  her  unwearying  embrace, 

And  cherishes  toward  perfect  worth 

The  childhood  of  our  race. 


M 


OTHER  of  Earth,  sublimely  fair 

In  thy  prophetic  ecstasy, 
The  travail  of  thy  soul  shall  bear 
The  Heaven  that  is  to  be. 


[28] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


w 


BATTLE-SONG  OF  FAILURE 

E  strain  toward  Heaven  and  lay  hold  on 

Hell. 
With  starward  eyes  we  stumble  in  hard 

ways, 

And  to  the  moments  when  we  see  life  well 
Succeeds  the  blindness  of  bewildered  days, 
But  what  of  that?     Into  the  sullen  flesh 
The  soul  drives  home  the  spur  with  splen 
did  sting. 
Bleeding    and    soiled    we    gird    ourselves 

afresh  — 

Forth,  and  make  firm  a  highway  for  the 
King. 


T 


HE  loveless  greed  the  centuries  have  stored 
In  marshy  foulness  traps  our  faltering  feet. 
The  sins  of  men  whom  punishment  ignored 
Like  fever  in  our  weakened  pulses  beat, 
But  what  of  that?     The  shame  is  not  to 

fail, 

Nor  is  the  Victor's  laurel  everything. 
To  fight  until  we  fall  is  to  prevail. 
Forth,  and  make  firm  a  highway  for  the 

King. 

[29] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BATTLE-SONG  OF  FAILURE  (continued) 

X/'EA,  cast  our  lives  into  the  ancient  slough 
•*•       And  fall  we  shouting  with  uplifted  face. 
Over  the  spot  where  mired  we  struggle  now 
Shall  march  in  triumph  a  transfigured  race. 
They    shall    exult    where    weary    we    have 

wept  — 
They  shall  achieve  where  we  have  striven  in 

vain, 

Leaping  in  vigour  where  we  faintly  crept, 
Joyous  along  the  road  we  paved  with  pain. 
What  though  we  seem  to  sink  in  the  morass? 
Under  those  unborn  feet  our  dust  shall  sing 
When  o'er  our  failure  perfect  shall  they  pass. 
Forth,  and  make  firm  a  highway  for  the  King. 


[30] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


MAGDALEN  TO  CHRIST 


M 


ASTER,  what  work  hast  thou  for  me,— 

For  me,  who  turn  aside  for  shame 
Before  the  eyes  of  my  own  blame? 
Thou  seest,  Lord. 


T 


I  see. 
HAT  shame  for  me  thou  shalt  endure, 

That  thou  mayst  succour  souls  afraid, 
Who  would  not  dare  to  seek  for  aid 
The  mercilessly  pure. 


B 


UT  must  my  heart  forever  show 

These  scars  of  unforgotten  pain? 
May  it  be  never  whole  again? 
Thou  knowest,  Lord. 


T 


I  know. 
HOSE  scars  I  leave  thee  for  a  sign 

That  bleeding  hearts  may  creep  to  rest 
As  on  a  mother's  sheltering  breast 
On  that  scarred  heart  of  thine. 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BALDUR  IN  NIFLHEIM 

'O  long,  so  long  ago  I  had  been  slain 

By  blindness  malice-led,  I  scarce  could  tell 
What  soul  it  was  that  trod  in  weary  pain 
The  vestibule  of  hell. 


o 


NLY  at  times  a  sick  dream  came  to  me 

That  once  I  had  been  Baldur  and  erstwhile 
The  gods  in  heaven  had  rejoiced  to  see 
The  glory  of  my  smile. 


TN  the  Dim  Country's  languor  I  had  lost 

The  way  of  smiling,  and  all  genial  words 
Fell  dumb  at  the  near  breath  of  Hela's  frost 
Like  winter-smitten  birds. 

TN  that  gray  land  of  failure,  we  who  died 
Inglorious  deaths,  nourished  our  shadowy 

shame. 

Meeting  we  turned  our  downward  gaze  aside 
Before  the  Stranger  came. 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BALDUR  IN  NIFLHEIM  (continued) 

A  CROSS  our  hush  I  heard  his  quick  feet  ring, 
•*^     For  like  a  warrior  fresh  from  fight  he  trod. 
I  looked  him  in  the  eyes,  remembering 
That  I  had  been  a  god  — 


EMEMBERING  that  promise  of  a  throne 
Upon  the  ashes  of  the  burnt-out  earth,  — 
A  perfect  kingdom  rising  all  mine  own 
From  worthlessness  to  worth. 


A 


SUDDEN  laughter  shook  the  still  dank  air 
Like  the  clear  causeless  laughter  of  a 
child. 

Over  its  dusky  meadows  bleak  and  bare 
All  the  Dim  Country  smiled, 


A 


ND  one  went  singing  in  the  gloom  —  "  Be 
hold, 

"Baldur  comes  down  to  the  dishonoured 
dead. 

"What,  shall  we  find  the  ways  too  murk 
and  cold 

"That  the  Bright  God  can  tread? 

[33] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BALDUR  IN  NIFLHEIM  (continued) 

"H 


ERE  in  this  land  of  dreams  that  are  no 

more 
"  And  spent  desires,  he  laughs, —  and  in 

his  eyes 
"  In  forms  more  glorious  than  once  they 

bore 
"  We  see  our  dead  hopes  rise." 

SHES  of  earth  upon  hell's  midden  cast, 
"  From    these,"    I    cried,  "  shall    Baldur 

build  his  throne  — 

"  But,  oh,  the  wasted  ages  that  I  passed 
"  Unknowing  and  unknown  — 

AY,  was  I  Baldur  till  I  met  thine  eyes? 
"  Thine  be  the  throne !  "    But,  lo,  he  was 

not  there,  — 

Only  a  wakened  world,  and  a  surprise 
Of  morning  in  the  air. 


[34] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


y 

IN  APRIL 


T    AST  year  I  dreamed  of  days  to  be, — 
-*-- '     Pale  April  days  when  you  and  I 
Should  read  God's  dearest  mystery 
Joy-blazoned  upon  earth  and  sky. 
'Tis  April  now  —  the  robins  sing  — 
New  life  is  green  upon  the  hill  — 
But  you  have  blossomed  with  the  spring 
In  violet   and  daffodil. 


T 


HE  grass  grows  brighter  on  a  grave; 

Oh,  fellow-comrades  of  despair, 
Blossom  our  hearts  more  blithely  brave 
For  what  lies  buried  there? 
The  lovelier  for  hidden  grief 
Unfolds  the  spring's  green  panoply; 
And  shall  the  frail,  unconscious  leaf 
More  godlike  live  than  we? 

[35] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


A  CHURCHYARD  IN  THE  RAIN 

>OOR  passionate  hearts  that  lagged  or  leapt, 

From  laughter-hidden  wounds  that  bled> 
And  now  have  lain  so  long  unwept 
In  this  green  village  of  the  dead, 
How  loudly  to  your  mirth  and  pain 
Rang  your  small  world  of  long  ago! 
Now  the  low  lisping  of  the  rain 
Is  all  the  language  that  you  know. 


[36] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


TWO  REST-SONGS 

"The  Body  shall  return  to  earth  as  it  was,  and  the 
Spirit  shall  return  to  God  who  gave  it." 


w 


HEN  my  Body's  use  at  last 

Cometh  to  an  ending 
Like  a  well-worn  garment  past 
Patient  wisdom's  mending, 
Hold  it  then  no  part  of  me, 
Well  as  now  you  love  it; 
Lay  it  somewhere  quietly 
With  green  earth  above  it. 


T    EAVE  the  wildflowers'  native  grace 
*-*     To  the  tending  of  the  skies 
Uncompanioned,  in  the  place 
Where  my  body  lies. 
Only  sometimes  feel  me  near 
When  your  tenderness  is  moved, 
And  for  messengers  of  cheer, 
Send  the  flowers  I  loved. 

[37] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


TWO  REST-SONGS  (continued) 


T 


HE  sunrise  needed  scarlet, 
The  zenith  needed  blue ; 
Did  God  forget,  Beloved, 
How  great  my  need  of  you? 


N 


N 


H 


AY,  but  a  need  was  greater 
In  some  far  nook  of  Space. 
Thither  has  gone  in  silence 
The  dearness  of  your  face. 

O  star  is  lost  from  heaven 
Although  it  seem  to  fall; 
The  journey  and  its  ending 
Obey  the  Master's  call. 

E  sees  the  Eternal  Sequence 

We  cannot  understand; 
He  sets  us  where  we  prosper 
The  Work  that  He  has  planned, 


A 


ND  though  the  human  vision 

With  loneliness  be  dim, 
A  universe  asunder 
Our  spirits  meet  in  Him. 

[38] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


A  PRAYER  AT  EVENING 


angels  walk  the  hills  with  flaming  feet 
Along  the  purple  margins  of  the  day. 
Father,  we  beg,  who  know  thy  rest  is  sweet, 
Help  for  the  hearts  too  pain-distraught  to 
pray. 


T  T  7E,  beckoned  to  soft  beds  by  kindly  sleep, 

Yearn  toward  the  fevered  watchers  for 

the  light; 
Hot,    weary    eyes    that    pain's    red    vigil 

keep  — 

Hearts  beating  loud  through  the  unquiet 
night. 


T^ATHER,  thy  love  doth  bless  each  peaceful 

-*-          room  — 

Shall  it  not  still  more  tenderly  be  shown 
Where  some  spent  spirit,  stumbling  in  the 

gloom, 
Pants  upward  to  its  Calvary,  alone? 

[39] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BOCKLIN'S  PORTRAIT  OF  HIMSELF 
WITH  DEATH  AS  A  FIDDLER 

T"\EATH  like  a  minstrel  sought  him  playing, 

-*-^         laying 

The  summons  on  his  soul  as  on  the  strings 
The  bow,  a  tender  touch  caressing,  blessing 
His  spirit  with  the  consciousness  of  wings. 

'"TpHE  music  drew  him  half  unwilling,  filling 
•*•       His  lifted   eyes  with   Heaven's  blinding 

beams. 
The   brush    he    had    so    strongly    wielded, 

yielded 
Futile  before  the  wonder  of  his  dreams. 

npHEREFORE  he  followed  unrepining,  shin- 
•*• 


With  that  new  light  that  waited  for  his  touch 
To  give  its  beauty  mimic  being,  seeing 
This  world  no  loss,  which  that  outweighed 
so  much. 

[40] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


w 


TUSITALA 

HIGH  tale  of  all  that  you  have  told 
Shall  flout  Oblivion  with  "  Never !  "- 

Which  song-child  of  that  voice  of  gold 
Shall  live  forever? 


T 


T 


HE  tale  of  one  whose  dauntless  eye 
Flashed  scorn  upon  slow-creeping  death  — 

Who  sounded  his  gay  battle-cry 
With  failing  breath: 

HE  song  of  one  whose  long  despair 

For  home's  lost  heathery  hills,  he  spent 

In  brightening  with  simple  prayer 
His  banishment. 


OTRONG  soul  indomitably  sweet, 
^     Behold  thy  fame's  immortal  part  — 
The  song  whose  music  was  the  beat 
Of  thy  brave  heart. 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


A 


THE  CHILDLESS 

T  Heaven-gate  the  mothers  stood 

With  earthward-bound,  expectant  eyes; 
The  yearning  of  their  motherhood 
Had  turned  their  backs  on  Paradise  — 
And  in  the  fadeless  gardens  gay 
With  angel-mates  that  made  them  cheer, 
The  children  asked  amid  their  play, 
"  Will  Mother  soon  be  here?  " 


TT^ROM  waiting  mothers  at  the  gate, 
•*•       From  waiting  children  on  the  lea, 
Three  Woman-Souls  turned  desolate 
And  met  beneath  the  Knowledge  Tree. 
"Where  is  your  child  ?" 

"  There  is  no  child 

"  That  yearns  to  me  in  earth  or  sky." 
"You  never  on  a  cradle  smiled?" 
"  Not  I." 

"Nor  I." 

"  Nor  I." 

[42] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  CHILDLESS  (continued) 


i 


LONGED,  God  knoweth  — "  said  the  first. 

And  her  lips  quivered  for  a  space  — 
"  I  thought,  am  I  a  thing  accurst 
"That  I  should  be  denied  this  grace? 
"  But  loud  the  aching  limbs  of  men 
"  Unto  my  hands  for  healing  cried, 
"  And  in  the  voice  of  praises  then 
"  Methought  my  longing  died. 


i 


44 f  T  did  not  die  —  it  scarce  did  sleep; 

"  Sisters,  a  woman  understands !  " 
(A  tear  her  eyelids  could  not  keep 
Fell  bright  upon  those  healing  hands) 
"  New  life  I  brought  unto  my  age 
"  Before  it  was  my  time  to  die  — 
"  But  oh,  my  wasted  heritage !  " 
"  Sister,  I  know." 

"  And  I." 


[431 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  CHILDLESS  (continued) 


I  not  held  beneath  my  heart 
Each  of  my  songs  ere  it  was  sung? 
"  Its  soul  is  of  mine  own  a  part, 
"  Its  body  from  mine  own  was  wrung 
"  By  travail  sore  as  mothers  bear  —  " 
(The  second  paused  with  lips  compressed, 
And  one  great  tear  along  her  hair 
Rolled  down  into  her  breast.) 


CAST  me  bleeding  to  the  dust 

"  In  agony  beside  the  way, 
"  And  since  create  a  woman  must, 
"  In  human  forms  I  shaped  the  clay 
"  Of  roadside  dust  my  blood  had  wet ; 
"  I  breathed  in  them  my  spirit  —  oh, 
"  It  seemed  to  me  they  lived  —  and  yet  — 
"  Sister,  I  know." 

"  I  know." 


[44] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  CHILDLESS  (continued) 


ever  sou£ht  me»"  ^d  the 
"I  never  heard  at  eve  or  morn 

"  Across  the  years  the  summoning  word 
"  Of  childhood  waiting  to  be  born; 
"  I  yearned  to  children  everywhere  — 
"  I  sought  the  little  wayside  weeds 
"  And  nursed  them  to  a  fruitage  fair 
"  Of  honourable  deeds, 


44  A    ND  they  —  they  loved  me,  too,  I  know  — 
**     "As   I   loved   them —and   yet—"    (a 

space 

All  worldless  bent  the  others  low 
Before  the  sorrow  of  her  face, 
And  harvest  of  those  wasted  years, 
Hot  in  her  eyes  and  loth  to  fall, 
Gathered  the  curse  of  unshed  tears, 
The  bitterest  of  all.) 


[45] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


THE  CHILDLESS  (continued) 


A 


ND  then  on  still,  unhasting  feet 

One  came  to  them  with  greeting  brief. 
Her  smile  so  patient  and  so  sweet 
Was  sadder  than  a  rain  of  grief; 
And  as  they  looked  into  her  eyes, 
Such  silence  fell  upon  the  three 
They  heard  the  songs  of  Paradise 
Beneath  the  Knowledge  Tree. 


"A 


ND  I  —  "  she  said  —  "  a  Child  I  bore  — 

"  A  Child  I  could  not  understand. 
"  I  watched  Him  wander  more  and  more 
"  Beyond  the  limits  of  my  land. 
"  His  love  was  never  less  toward  me, 
"  But  He  was  All,  and  I  but  one  — 
"  He  passed  unto  Humanity, 
"  And  was  no  more  my  son." 


[46] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


o 


G 


AT  BETHLEHEM 

MARY,  lend  thy  Babe  to  me 
To  hold  upon  my  breast ! 
It  cannot  be,  it  cannot  be  — 
Thy  heart  would  shake  his  rest. 
Beneath  thy  robe  I  see  it  leap  — 
How  in  such  tumult  could  he  sleep? 

OD'S  Mother,  shame  upon  thee  now, 
So  hard  and  cold  to  be ! 
And  who  art  thou  —  and  who  art  thou 
That  criest  shame  on  me? 
A  wasted  woman,  hungering  sore 
For  the  sweet  babe  I  never  bore. 


N 


OW  for  that  waste  be  thine  the  shame- 
Thy  sentence  thou  dost  speak; 
And  for  that  hunger  thine  the  blame. 
Were  no  lost  lambs  to  seek 
Where  crowds  unseeing  pass  and  press  • 
No  little  children  motherless? 

— 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


AT  BETHLEHEM  (continued) 


o 


w 


MARY,  let  me  seek  for  such! 
Mine  eyes  with  tears  were  blind  — 
Nay,  daughter,  seek  not  overmuch; 
Go  forth  and  thou  shalt  find 
Naked  and  hungry  everywhere 
The  little  ones  thou  didst  not  bear. 

IPE  clear  of  useless  tears  thine  eyes, 
Thy  heart  of  futile  dreams. 
Go  forth  to  face  realities  — 
One  deed  of  mercy  seems 
To  this  my  Son  and  me,  more  fair 
That  a  whole  life  of  barren  prayer. 


LOVE  not  in  word  but  in  good  sooth; 
Deserted  and  defiled, 
Each  little  human  form  in  truth 
Harbours  the  Eternal  Child. 
Held  in  thine  arms,  His  eyes  of  grace 
Shall  open  to  thy  bending  face. 


[48] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


AT  BETHLEHEM  (continued) 

OD'S  Mother,  I  have  been  to  blame  — 
Nay,  daughter, —  no  regret. 
Forget  thy  blame,  forget  thy  shame  - 
Thy  very  self  forget. 
Give  wholly  thine  awakened  heart. 
My  Child  hath  need  of  all  thou  art. 


[49] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


HIS  MOTHER 

Q  OMEWHERE  to-night  you  lie  awake 
^    Bearing  your  bitterness  alone. 

I  cannot  shield, —  your  heart  must  take 
Its  turn  to  bleed  and  cower  and  moan. 


w 


HEN  straight  you  pressed  to  your  desire 
And  all  men  spoke  your  praise,  I  smiled. 
Now  naked,  smitten,  in  the  mire, 
My  arms  reach  out  for  you,  my  child. 


o 


H,  could  I  sing  you  now  to  sleep, 

How  strong  to-morrow  from  my  breast 
To  fight  and  conquer  you  would  leap ! 
Lord,  I  keep  vigil,—  send  him  rest ! 


[50] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


T 


O 


IRISH  MOTHERS 

HEIR  pulses  beat  the  music  of  the  tides 

upon  the  shore, 
The  kelp-scent  fills  their  nostrils  with  the 

sharpness  of  the  spray, 
The  very  milk  we  give  them  has  the  savour 

of  the  sea, 
But  our  children  go  away  —  our  children 

go  away. 

H,  the  long,  long  time  of  waiting  with  our 

eyes  upon  the  door, 
Through  the  whitening  of  the  hedges  and 

the   slash   of  autumn  rain! 
Far,  far  away,  they  weary  for  our  faces,  it 

may  be, — 
Will  they  never  come  again  —  will  they 

never  come  again? 


THE     ROADSIDE    FIRE 


H 


ICARUS 

E  soared  as  surely  as  an  eagle  does, 

Higher  and  higher  toward  the  zenith  still, 
And  as  he  rose,  a  chant  came  back  to  us  — 
An  iron  monotone  of  human  will 
Made  audible;  when  listening  was  vain 
Breathless  we  followed  him  with  straining 

eyes  — 

Adventurer  who  claimed  for  man's  domain, 
Amazed  and  impotent,  the  conquered  skies. 
"  The  Prince  of  Air  is  tamed !     What  hin 
ders  men," 
We    cried,    "  from    traversing    the    Upper 

World 

"  In  quest  of  unimaginable  things?  " 
From  awful  silence  came  the  answer  then, 
As  like  a  challenge  at  our  feet  was  hurled 
Our  champion  dead,  with  broken,  silenced 
wings. 


[53] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


H 


H 


LILITH 

ERS  is  the  hour  of  quiet  lamp-lit  rest 

When  thou  dost  worship  at  her  altar-fire, 
That  gilds  the  hearth,  and  lights  her  gentle 

breast 
Where  tired  with  play,  thy  child  has  found 

his  rest  — 
But  I  am  breathed  out  of  the  darkening 

west, 
A  twilight  wind  of  wandering  desire. 

ERS  is  the  glow  of  struggle  and  success, 

The  battle-hope  of  noonday  and  the  street. 
'Tis  for  her  sake  that  onward  thou   dost 

press, 
Whose    smile,    like    Heaven's,    thy   victory 

shall  bless  — 

But  I  am  in  the  wistful  weariness 
That  treads  the  trailing  shadow  of  defeat. 


[53] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


LILITH  (continued) 

T  TERS  is  the  night's  benignant  quieting 
•••  •*•     When  thy  protecting  arms  her  sleep  en 
fold- 
But  ere  the  wakening  birds  begin  to  sing, 
Because  my  kiss  is  a  forbidden  thing, 
The  dawn's  mysterious  lips,  like  mine,  shall 

cling 
Upon  thine  own  that  quiver  and  grow  cold. 


[54] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


w 


THE  GHOST-FLOWER 

H Y  did  I  pluck  the  Ghost-flower  pale ! 

Like  some  young  recluse,  fasting-frail, 
So  fair,  so  fitly  placed,  it  stood 
Amid  its  pallid  sisterhood 
On  the  dim  margin  of  the  wood. 
It  scarcely  seemed  to  take  its  birth 
From  the  same  homely,  genial  earth 
That  flung  the  columned  trunks  between 
Such  wild  exuberance  of  green. 
So  supernaturally  pure, — 
No  tint  nor  fragrance  to  allure 
Caress  of  butterfly  or  bee, 
It  still  might  stand  there,  but  for  me, 
Serene  in  sterile  sanctity. 
But  now  —  'tis  a  corrupted  thing, 
A  blackened  shapeless  pulp,  to  fling 
Aside,  to  turn  from  in  disgust  — 
Poor  ruined  Saint-flower  in  the  dust! 
How  should  I  know  a  careless  touch, 
So  little  meant,  could  harm  so  much? 
But  late  regret  breeds  barren  gloom  — 

And  yonder,  see!  a  Rose  in  bloom  — 

__ 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


w 


B 


SHIELA  IN  THE  WEST 

IND  that  blows  from  the  east,  that  blows 

from  the  home  of  my  people, 
Bring  them  again  to  my  heart,  again  to 

mine  eyes  and  mine  ears; 
Bring  to  my  dulling  ears  the  sob  of  the 

waves  and  my  people, 
Bring  to  my  dimming  eyes  the  salt  of  the 

waves  and  their  tears. 


LOOD  of  my  people  that  stirs  in  me,  wild 
and  cold  as  the  sea, 

Blood  of  a  man  long  dead,  the  child  of  a 
lone  dark  star  — 

How  can  I  speak  to  the  stranger  the  sor 
rows  that  rise  in  me, 

Rise  and  fall  like  the  waves  that  wash  on  a 
coast  afar? 


[56] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


SHIELA  IN  THE  WEST  (continued) 


w 


w 


HERE  is  the  hand  that  shall  lead  me  out 

of  the  stranger's  land? 
Where  does  the  footstep  tarry  for  which 

I  listen  and  long? 
Where  are  the  lips  of  music  whose  speech 

I  shall  understand? 
Where  is  the  man  of  my  people,  beautiful, 

wild  and  strong? 

HERE  is  the  man  of  my  people  to  take  me 

home  to  it  all, 
To  bring  me  again  to  mine  own,  peace  to 

my  soul  to  speak? 
Heart   of  me,  how  had   I   answered  had 

yours  been  the  voice  to  call, 
Changeling  child  of  my  people,  beautiful, 

wild  and  weak! 


[57] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


T 


T 


T 


A  VAGRANT 

HERE'S  a  wildness  comes  upon  me  with 

the  earthy  scent  of  spring; 
When  the  first  young  larches  tassel, 
Then  the  soil  demands  its  vassal, 
And  I  chafe  in  cot  or  castle  at  the  time  of 
bourgeoning. 

HEN  the  broad  blue  sky  above  me  is  the 

only  roof  I  need, 

And  the  sudden  shower  that  chills  me 
And  the  sun's  quick  smile  that  thrills  me 
And  the  joy  of  life  that  fills  me  are  the 
only  friends  I  heed. 

HEN  I  turn  the  world  at  pleasure  like  the 

pages  of  a  book  — 
Past  the  minster  lofty-towered, 
Past  the  cottage  rose-embowered, 
Past  the   meadow  many-flowered  and  the 
willow-bordered  brook. 

[58] 


THE     ROADSIDE    FIRE 


A  VAGRANT  (continued) 

PAST  the  ruddy  little  village  sunning  cheery 
on  the  hill, 

Past  the  town  that  "  vagrant "  names  me 
And  the  busy  boor  that  blames  me, 
For  the  Open  Road  reclaims  me  and  I  yield 
me  to  its  will. 


[59] 


THE     ROADSIDE    FIRE 


w 


THE  LOON 

HERE  shaken  shallows  multiply  the  moon, 
Alone  amid  the  silence  laughs  the  Loon. 
Heard  far  away  across  the  night,  he  seems 
Some    happy   wood-god    laughing    in   his 
dreams. 


[60] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


M 


M 


S/ 

THE  STRAYED  ELF 

Y  Mother  was  the  Earth, 

My  Sister  was  the  Violet ; 
The  place  that  gave  me  birth, 
A  hollow  where  the  grasses  met. 

There  in  the  silence  like  a  drop  of  dew, 
Among  the  little  wildling  folk,  I  grew. 

Y  Father  was  the  Sun, 

My  Brother  was  a  flying  Cloud 
Who  drowsed  when  day  was  done 
Upon  a  mountain,  where  the  crowd 
Of  smiling  stars  a-tiptoe  softly  crept 
To  kiss  him  to  sweet  visions  while  he 
slept. 

Y  home  was  in  a  wood, 
A  wood  that  opened  to  the  sky  — 

The  world  of  men  is  good, 

But  it  is  not  for  such  as  I! 

So  often  I  must  long  for  what  has  been 
And  weary,  weary,  weary  for  mine  own 

wild  kin! 

__ 


M 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


TUSCAN  SONG 

)LUCK  the  violets  in  the  spring, 

Pluck  the  almond  blossoms; 
Maidens  gay,  while  you  may 
Wear  them  on  your  bosoms. 
They  will  vanish  with  the  spring 
Like  a  dream  that  closes  — 
But  the   summer's  hand  will  fling 
On  your  pathway,  roses. 

>LUCK  the  roses  thorns  and  all, 

Heavy  perfume  breathing, 
Ere  they  shed  petals  red 
From  your   careless  wreathing; 
Yet  should  they  your  grasp  escape 
There's  no  cause  for  sighing  — 
With  the  autumn's  generous  grape 
Drink  to  summer  dying. 


[62] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


TUSCAN  SONG  (continued) 

QWEET  from  every  sunny  sphere 
^     Where  the  bloom  still  lingers, 
Juice  divine,  infant  wine, 
Stains  our  eager  fingers. 
Haste  the   vintage,  for  the   year 
Old  and  cold  is  growing, 
And  the  winter  brings,  my  dear, 
Only  sharp  winds  blowing. 


M 


AIDENS  all,  attention  lend; 
Mark  my  riddle's  reading. 
Coy  and  chill  if  you  will 
Hear  your  first  love's  pleading; 
Take  the  second  for  a  friend, — 
But  be  wise  thereafter 
Lest  your  beauty  sadly  end, 
Lone  mid  other's  laughter. 


[63] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


H 


AN  EPITAPH 

ERE  lies  a  man  whose  life  was  long, 

Yet  missed  the  purest  joy  of  life, 
For  sadly  soon  his  soul  grew  strong 
In  battle  with  this  world  of  strife. 
When  past  his  door  the  children  ran, 
Wistful  he  watched  their  frolic  wild. 
He  was  a  baby  —  then  a  man; 
He  never  was  a  child. 


[64] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


i 


THE  LOSER 

HEARD  the  scream  of  a  passing  train 

Across  the  desert  to-day; 
It  took  me  back  to  the  town  again 
And  the  clatter  of  old  Broadway, 
The  snatch  of  a  song,  the  clang  of  a  gong, 
The  glare  from  a  hundred  bars  — 
Do  I  envy  him  still,  in  this  hush  and  chill, 
Galloping  under  the  stars? 


T 


HE  fight  he  wins  is  the  fight  I  lost  — 

I  in  my  desert  camps, 
Who  hardly  save  in  a  year  the  cost 
Of  one  of  his  motor-lamps. 
My  place  is  not,  and  my  name's  forgot 
In  the  world  that  I  once  called  mine. 
Do  I  greatly  care,  in  this  desert  air 
That  is  headier  far  than  wine? 


[65] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  LOSER  (continued) 


E 


VEN  his  ultimate  victory  — 

Do  I  grudge  him  that,  at  last? 
Forever  sweet  is  your  smile  on  me, 
My  perfect  hope  of  the  past! 
Forever  young,  as  when  first  you  flung 
The  spell  of  your  eyes'  grey  gleam  .  .  . 
Do  I  grudge  him  the  wife  of  his  prosperous 

life  — 
I  who  have  still  my  Dream? 


[66] 


THE     ROADSIDE    FIRE 


LIE-AWAKE  SONGS 


)AST  my  little  window 

The  stars  go  by  all  night; 
One  by  one,  two  by  two, 
They  travel  out  of  sight. 

'O  many  lands  to  lighten 
f     In  such  a  little  while, 
They  have  no  time  to  tarry 
For  more  than  just  a  smile. 

)AST  my  little  window 

Their  pleasant  way  they  take, 
To  smile  on  all  the  children 
Who  somewhere  lie  awake. 


[67] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


LIE-AWAKE  SONGS  (continued) 


2 


W 


HEN  we  go  so  very  far 

We  have  to  take  the  Sleeping-car, 
All  night  long  awake  I  lie 
To  watch  the  world  go  marching  by. 


OLES  on  poles  go  flashing  fast, 
Strung  on  miles  of  shiny  wire, 
And  snorting  engines  gallop  past 
Like  horses  running  to  a  fire. 


REAT  big  towns  with  windows  bright, 

Houses  wee  with  just  one  light  — 
So  much  to  see  as  on  we  leap, 
How  can  grown  folks  go  to  sleep? 


[68] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


NIGHT  IN  ASSISI 

SILENTLY  steal  the  moonlight's  cool  white 
feet 

Along  the  empty  street. 
Assisi    sleeps  —  what    spell    constrains    her 

guest 

Whose  pillow  lies  unpressed? 
Not  memories  of  old  pride  and  power  and 

lust  — 

Mere  dust  amid  the  dust 
Those  men  of  blood  and  fire  too  long  have 

lain 
Ever  to  live  again. 

\T7E  watch  to  see  the  slender  form  pass  by 

Of  one  who  cannot  die. 
Above  him  arches  like  a  shrine  alight 

The  jewelled  Umbrian  night. 
Ah,  tear-dimmed  eyes,  and  worn  ecstatic 

face, 

And  hand  upraised  to  trace 
The  sign  of  peace,  its  sacramental  scars 
Kissed  by  the  reverent  stars. 

[69] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


VENICE 

T  TEAVY  her  eyes  with  memories 
A  A     And  dim  with  dreams  of  other  days 
When  eager  life  ran  red  and  gold 
Along  her  tangled  water-ways. 
Now  she  is  old  and  worn  and  cold, 
And  on  her  brow  the  shadow  falls 
That  dankly  grey,  in  dark  decay 
Steals  up  her  leaning  palace-walls. 

OHE  is  as  one  whose  reign  is  done, 
^     Whose  heavy  crown  is  laid  aside, 
Though  still  about  her  shoulders  cling 
The  purple  shreds  of  ancient  pride, 
And  as  of  old,  when  for  her  ring 
Her    bridegroom    sea    stretched    passionate 

hands, 

Still  thronging  meet  about  her  feet 
The  wanderers  of  other  lands. 


[70] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


VENICE  (continued) 


B 


UT  not  as  then,  when  kings  of  men 
Desired  her  for  her  beauty's  sake ; 
She  is  a  faded  tourney-queen 
For  whom  no  more  the  lances  break, 
But  round  whose  knees  the  children  lean, 
(Breathless,  forgetful  of  their  play, 
With  rapt  young  eyes  where  mirrored  lies 
The  splendour  lost  in  long  decay. 


H 


ER  reign  is  sure  while  hearts  endure, 
For  love  alone  her  throne  sustains. 
Drift  of  the  ocean  are  her  ships  — 
Her  aged  loveliness  remains. 
The  mother-smile  is  on  the  lips 
That  once  the  pride  of  empire  curled; 
She  draws  to  rest  upon  her  breast 
The  weary  children  of  the  world. 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


EDINBURGH  VIGNETTES 
ARGYLL  AND  MONTROSE  IN  ST.  GILES' 

VJ7IDE  parted  as  in  life,  their  marbles  lie, 
*  *       The  young  man  in  his  beauty,  and  the  old, 
Who    deeming   themselves   martyrs,   both 

were  bold 
To  smile  on  Death.     Beyond  our  holden 

eyes, 

Perchance  their  souls  foregather  comrade- 
wise, 

And  marvel  at  the  things  for  which  men 
die. 


[72] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


EDINBURGH  VIGNETTES  (continued) 
TREES  IN  THE  CASTLE 

VTEAR  after  year,  Spring  storms  the  citadel 
•*•      And  shakes  out  her  green  standards  from 

the  keep 

While  up  the  crag  her  grassy  armies  creep. 
Not  all  the  memory  of  past  winters'  power 
Avails  to  sadden  that  triumphant  hour 
When   year   by   year   she   shouts   her   glad 
"All's  well!" 


[733 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


EDINBURGH  VIGNETTES  (continued) 
ARTHUR'S  SEAT 

TXTOLTEN  from  hidden  agonies  of  heat 

These  gnarled  grey  rocks  were  hurled  into 

the  light,— 
But  now  their  knolls  of  gilded  green  are 

bright 
With  children's  shining  heads;  tired  limbs 

are  flung 
On  the  kind  turf,  and  Age  whose  heart  is 

young 
Smiles  upon  Youth's  new  wisdom  gravely 

sweet. 


[74] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


EDINBURGH  VIGNETTES  (continued) 

QUEEN  MARY 

HERE  where  her  magic  burned  with  troubled 
flame 

Through  the  grey  streets  her  memory  sing 
ing  goes  — 

A  melody  bewilderingly  sweet 
That  stammering  strive  we  vainly  to  re 
peat — 

A  secret  song  whose  music  no  man  knows  — 
That  sounds  to  no  two  listeners  the  same. 


[75] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


EDINBURGH  VIGNETTES  (continued) 
GREYFRIARS  BOBBY 


H 


E  deemed  the  stone  a  door  that  closed  had 

been 

Between  his  lord  and  him;  in  simple  trust 
That  to  his  waiting  ope  some  day  it  must, 
With  pleading  tail  alert  and  wistful  ears, 
A  little  living  prayer,  he  watched  the  years 
Patiently  pass,  until  Death  let  him  in. 


[76] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


D 


AT  CARMARTHEN 

OWN  quiet  dimpling  Towy,  with  the  tide 

Coracles  drift  at  twilight,  two  by  two, 
Sharing  their  nets  as  they  were  wont  to  do 
When  Merlin  watched  them  from  the  river 
side. 

Minsters  and  castles  Time  has  made  a  spoil, 
But  still  the  river  bears  as  once  it  bore 
These  fragile  shells  to  ply  their  simple  toil 
To  music  of  young  voices  from  the  shore. 
Along  the  path  the  stalwart  fishers  pass, 
Bearing  their  little  boats  to  launch  anew, 
And  speaking  in  their  own  peculiar  tongue. 
Ghostly  their  noiseless  feet  upon  the  grass; 
They  fade  into  the  dimness  and  the  dew, 
The  priesthood  of  a  world  forever  young. 


[77] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


i 


MICHELANGELO'S  PIETA 

In  St  Peter's 

N  that  great  church  which  is  the  heart  of 

Rome, 

Amid  the  rich  vast  dimness,  there  is  one 
Still  sheltered  spot  to  which  my  heart  goes 

home, 

Where  holding  the  lax  body  of  her  Son 
Sits  Angelo's  crowned  Sorrow.     On  her  knees 
He  lies,  no  more  the  people's  Wonder-Lord, 
But  only  her  dead  child ;  and  as  she  sees 
Those   wounds   she   cannot  heal,   the  mystic 

sword 
Of   Love's  most   impotence   at   Love's  most 

need, 

That  pricks  all  women,  strikes  her  desolate. 
Though  on  those  sad  wounds  that  no  longer 

bleed 

Her  eyes  are  fixed,  in  agony  too  great 
For  aught  but  calm,  yet  turns  she  silently 
That  patient  palm  to  God. 

[78] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


MICHELANGELO'S  PIETA  (continued) 

"  Lo,  here  is  he, 

"  Thy  Son  and  mine ;  mine  that  mysterious 
morn 

"  Of  silent  silver  wonder ;  mine  to  know 

"  A  softly  stirring  marvel  yet  unborn ; 

"  Mine  in  the  manger  —  in  the  tender  glow 

"  Of  those  first  budding  years ;  then  —  he 
was  thine. 

"  Behold  him  now!     He  is  mine  own  once 
more, 

"  Passive  in  death  upon  this  heart  of  mine 

"  As  in  warm  sleep  his  baby  limbs  I  bore. 

"  Take  him  —  again  I  give  him  up  to  thee. 

"  Thou  art  his  spirit  —  take  the  form  I 
gave, 

"  This  body,  blood  and  bone  and  flesh  of 
me, 

"  That  would  be  mine  though  in  the  deep 
est  grave  — 

"  He  is  all  thine." 

O  heart  that  holds  the  sword ! 
Pray  for  all  mothers,  Mother  of  our  Lord ! 


[79] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


WHERE  LOVE  IS 

T>  Y  the  rosy  cliffs  of  Devon,  on  a  green  hill's 

crest, 
I  would  build  me  a  house  as  a  swallow  builds 

its  nest; 
I  would  curtain  it  with  roses,  and  the  wind 

should  breathe  to  me 
The  sweetness  of  the  roses  and  the  saltness 

of  the  sea. 

\T7HERE  the  Tuscan  olives  whiten  in  the  hot 

blue  day 
I  would  hide  me  from  the  heat  in  a  little 

hut  of  grey, 
While    the    singing    of    the    husbandmen 

should  scale  my  lattice  green 
From  the  golden  rows  of  barley  that  the 

poppies  blaze  between. 


[80] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


WHERE  LOVE  IS  (continued) 

ARROW  is  the  street,  Dear,  and  dingy  are 
the  walls 

Wherein  you  wait  my  coming  as  the  twi 
light  falls. 

All  day  with  dreams  I  gild  the  grime  till 
at  your  step  I  start  — 

Ah,  Love,  my  country  in  your  arms  —  my 
home  upon  your  heart! 


[81] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


N 


N 


BITTERSWEET 


BUDS  IN  AUTUMN 

O  wind  among  the  branches  grieves  — 

The  leaf  lies  where  it  fell  ; 
And  see,  below  the  scar  it  leaves 
A  bud  begins  to  swell. 

EW  joy  may  from  old  pain  have  birth 

And  buds  in  autumn  start  — 
But  that  is  in  God's  generous  earth  — 
Not  in  a  human  heart. 


[82] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 


i 


2 

IN  HIS  EYES 

N  your  clear  eyes  I  fancied  I  might  find 

New  dawn  of  joy  upon  my  pathway  cast, 
Whose  light  upon  my  brow  should  fling  be 
hind 

Forevermore  the  shadows  of  the  past; 
But  when  to-night  I  looked  into  your  eyes, 
My  face  looked  back  at  me,  and  there  I  read, 
Patient  and  pale  and  pitifully  wise 
The  weary  semblance  of  a  love  long  dead. 
Why  should  we  love  and  suffer,  you  and  I, 
Only  to  learn  at  last  that  love  can  die? 


[83] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 

3 
AT  THE  MIRROR 


A 


grey  like  snow  in  autumn  lies 
Too  early  on  my  head, 
And  in  my  weary,  wandering  eyes 
The  dreams  have  long  been  dead; 

ND  yet  I  am  not  ill  to  see 

Although  I  am  not  fair; 
Many  have  found  their  hope  in  me, 
And  many  their  despair. 


OOME  loved  my  bad,  and  some  my  good, 
^     And  some  my  outward  show  — 

And  one,  the  heart  he  understood  — 

The  heart  you  do  not  know. 


[84] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 


'TT^ 
•*• 


4 
IMPOTENT 

cautious  coward  in  my  heart 
Shrinks  from  untrodden  ways  —  and  yet 
I  would  that  we  had  never  met, 
Or  else  that  we  might  never  part. 


T 


HE  folly  of  my  dreams  I  see, 

Smiling  with  wise  cold  eyes  —  and  then 
I  feel  in  all  the  world  of  men 
There  is  no  other  mate  for  me. 


i 


T  seems  that  I  have  always  been 

Thus  crippled  and  condemned  to  wait 
Forever  crouching  at  the  gate 
Where  I  may  never  enter  in. 


[85] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 

5 
THE  DAY  OF  DAYS 

A    CRY  of  the  weary  year  — 
^^     A  flurry  of  snow  on  the  blast  — 

And  the  red-streaked  grey  of  a  winter  day 

Slipping  into  the  past  — 

But  my  listening  heart  can  hear 

A  bird  that  must  sing  and  sing, 

A  song  of  the  morn  and  of  Youth  re-born, 

And  of  Spring  —  Spring  —  Spring! 


[86] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 

6 
FROM  FAR  AWAY 

F  your  day  I  claim  no  part, 

Not  a  look,  not  a  touch, 
Not  a  beat  of  your  dear  heart- 
That  were  joy  too  much. 


o 


NLY  let  me  take  my  place 

In  your  dreams  through  the  night. 
I  will  pass  and  leave  no  trace 
Ere  the  east  grows  bright. 


'OU  shall  waken  with  a  smile, 

Smiling  still  as  you  muse 
How  you  dreamed  of  love  awhile  — 
But  forgetting  whose. 


[87] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 

7 
GOOD-BYE 

T    ET  us  keep  our  spell  unbroken, 

Hoard  our  trove  of  faery  gold. 
Safe  as  death  are  words  unspoken  — 
Safe  is  love  untold. 

T    ET  us  learn  our  lesson  bravely; 
*~*     Sorrow  serves  the  stout  of  heart. 

Came  we  to  our  meeting  gravely  — 

Laughing  let  us  part. 


[88] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 

8 
COMFORT 


w 


E  plucked  the  flower  ere  it  could  fade, 

Ere  it  could  die;  do  you  regret? 
The  pages  in  whose  care  we  laid 
The  blossom  by  are  fragrant  yet. 


N 


O  storm  upon  it  now  can  beat, 
No  touch  amiss  one  petal  shed. 
It  is  immortal,  like  the  sweet 
Remembered  kiss  of  one  long  dead. 


A 


ND  though  life  holds  for  you  and  me 

One  bitter  hour  of  joy  denied, 
We  shall  be  glad  in  days  to  be 
We  plucked  the  flower  before  it  died. 


[89] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


BITTERSWEET  (continued) 

9 

THE  REST  IS  SILENCE 
O  forth  and  seek  —  the  world  is  wide; 

Go  forth  to  do  and  be, 
And  One  shall  greet  thee  like  a  bride, 
A  worthy  mate  for  thee. 


w 


HEN  thou  shalt  trample  evil  down 

And  set  the  good  above, 
She  shall  award  thy  labour's  crown, 
The  wonder  of  her  love. 


UT  if  the  evil  be  too  strong 
And  if  thou  fail  and  fall  — 
If  all  in  vain  thou  love  and  long 
And  she  ignore  thy  call  — 


\T7HEN  spent  and  beaten  utterly 

And  sick  at  soul  thou  art, 
Come  back  to  me,  —  come  back  to  me 
And  rest  thee  in  my  heart. 


[90] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


MEETING 

T    IKE  a  spent  swimmer  measuring  the  waves 
•*-"'     That  mark  the  strand  of  safety  still  un- 

won, 

And  hearing  far  below  the  dark  sea-caves 
Whisper  their  promise  of  oblivion, 
I  fought  across  the  years  of  bitterness 
Toward  beaches  distant  as  the  sunset-land, 
Until  at  last  my  aching  feet  could  press 
A  sweet  security  of  shining  sand. 
I  stood  upon  the  shore  of  my  desire, 
Bruised  by  the  savage  buffets  of  the  sea 
And  dripping  with  its  phosphorescent  fire, 
But  safe  at  last.     And  then,  well  known  to 

me 
As  my  first  prayer,  on  that  new  coast  you 

came 
With  outstretched  hands,  and  called  me  by 

my  name. 


[91] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  STING  OF  DEATH 

A  FTER  long  pain,  I  fell  asleep ; 
•***    And  then  you  came,  when  all  the  rest 
Had  wept  and  gone.     You  did  not  weep, 
But  laid  your  brow  upon  my  breast 
And  whispered,  "  You  who  do  not  hear  —  " 
(To  me,  who  made  your  words  my  bread!) 
"  I  never  knew  I  loved  you,  Dear, 
"  Until  they  told  me  you  were  dead. 
"  I  have  been  blind,  but  now  I  see ; 
"  I  love  you,  love  you  —  for  the  sake 
"  Of  your  long  love,  come  back  to  me !  " 
And  even  then  I  did  not  wake. 


[92] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


Y 


WORN  OUT 

OU  played  upon  my  heart  as  on  a  lute, 
And  when  you  found  it  answered  to  your 

touch, 

Curious,  you  proved  your  power  overmuch 
Nor  would  you  let  it  rest  a  moment  mute. 
At  last,  so  mercilessly  fingered  o'er, 
The  weary  strings  grew  slack ;  now,  for  your 

sake 

Or  any  man's,  that  listless  lute  can  make 
Music,  or  even  discord  —  nevermore. 


[93] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


NOT  GUILTY 

T  LOVED  him;  yes,  I  know. 
-*•     I  had  the  strength  to  front  him,  eye  to  eye, 
And  when  he  cried,  "  You  love  me,  dear ! " 

—  to  lie, 
Because  I  loved  him  so. 

T3ECAUSE  my  love  was  strong 

-*^    Though  my  weak  flesh  was  wasted  as  by 

fire 
I   saved  him  from  his  own  wild   heart's 

desire. 
My  King  should  do  no  wrong. 

OUCH  has  my  battle  been, 
^     And  such  the  measure  of  my  victory. 
Which    white    untested    soul   that    shrinks 

from  me 
Dare  call  this  love  a  sin? 


[94] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


EMPTY  HOUSES 

OHUTTERS  like  lids  have  decorously  closed 
^     The  window  that  was  wont  to  frame  your 

head; 

Its  face  to  decent  emptiness  composed 
Your  house  lies  dead. 


i 


N  twilight  that  forgets  the  name  of  dawn 
The  grey  dust  gathers  in  the  silent  hall; 

Outside  upon  the  stretch  of  weedy  lawn 
The  dead  leaves  fall. 

7ET  shall  this  house  return  to  living  guise 
*•      And  smile  warm-hearted  on  the  world  of 

men. 

House  in  my  heart,  whose  dead,  blank-shut 
tered  eyes 
Can  never  wake  again! 


[95] 


THE     ROADSIDE     FIRE 


L 


A  DIALOGUE 

IT  by  thy  lips'  ethereal  fire, 

White  flames  of  God  arise  in  me. 
I  hear  the  voice  of  old  desire 
That  sighs  in  me,  that  sighs  in  me. 
Thine  eyes  hold  Joy's  immortal  lore  - 
I  gaze  and  sorrow  dies  in  me. 
The  bitterness  that  once  I  bore 
Still  cries  in  me,  still  cries  in  me. 
Thou  art  imperishable  Youth  — 
Men  turn  as  by  a  spell  to  thee. 
The  old,  old  tale  of  tarnished  truth 
I  tell  to  thee,  I  tell  to  thee. 
Life  that  doth  aureole  thy  head 
My  being  doth  compel  to  thee. 

Nay,  for  my  place  is  with  the  dead 
Farewell  to  thee  —  farewell  to  thee, 


[96] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


RUDEL  SINGS  OF  HIS  LADY 

OHE  is  the  goal  and  the  desire; 

^     She  is  the  altar  and  the  fire; 

The  body  of  Love  and  the  soul  thereof, 
And  she  will  hear  me  when  I  speak. 
She  is  the  hope  and  the  fulfilling; 
She  is  the  tempest  and  the  stilling; 
She  is  the  doing  and  the  willing, 
And  I  shall  find  her  when  I  seek. 

O  HE  is  the  passion  and  the  peace ; 

.       She  is  the  bond  and  the  release; 
The  laughter  and  tears  of  the  vanished  years, 
And  she  will  know  me  when  we  meet. 
She  is  the  striving  and  the  winning; 
She  is  the  penance  and  the  sinning; 
She  is  the  end  and  the  beginning, 
And  I  shall  kneel  before  her  feet. 


[97] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


RUDEL  SINGS  OF  HIS  LADY  (continued) 

OHE  is  the  glory  and  the  shame; 

^     She  is  the  guerdon  and  the  blame; 
The  chastening  rod  and  the  ruth  of  God, 
And  she  will  lift  me  up  to  bliss. 
Then  end  together  song  and  sighing, 
And  let  me  die,  if  in  my  dying 
Upon  her  perfect  bosom  lying 
I  yield  my  spirit  to  her  kiss. 


[98 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


i 


COSTANZA 

N  the  sun  I  sat  and  spun, 

Dreaming  of  a  wedding-gown, — 
For  youth  and  love  were  in  the  air 
That  day  you  wandered  through  our  town. 


T 


HROUGH  the  town,  your  eyes  of  brown 

Smiled  on  all  they  chanced  to  see. 
I  sat  among  the  lilacs  there  — 
Passing,  you  smiled  on  them  and  me. 


OMILED  on  me  so  carelessly  — 

^     Went  your  way  nor  glanced  again. 

A  world  of  women  claimed  your  care; 

You  left  for  me  no  other  men. 


99 


THE     ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  UNFULFILLED 

TN  sleep's  uncertain  borderland 

A     Where  dreams  by  thousands  come  and  go, 
Two  heart  to  heart  forever  stand 
Curtained  by  clouds  of  whirling  snow. 


in  dreams  to° 

dare  —  " 
"  This   clothes   with    joy   the    shivering 

years 
"  When    in    my    eyes    my    soul    stood 

bare  —  " 
I  woke  at  first  with  bitter  tears; 


"DUT  now  the  wakening  brings  no  start. 

•^     I  smile,  remembering  the  day 
Silent,  I  offered  you  my  heart, 
And  you  in  silence  turned  away. 


100  ] 


THE    ROADSIDE'   FIRE 


i 


TO  A  YOUNG  GIRL 

rOU  touch  me  to  a  tenderness 
Too  deep  for  you  to  know: 
A  mother  smiles  and  sighs  to  trace 
The  embers  of  her  girlhood  grace 
Rekindled  in  her  daughter's  face  — 
I  brood  upon  you  so. 

LAY  about  you  thoughts  that  bless, 

For  in  your  eyes'  pure  glow 
The  hope  that  was  my  youth  I  see, 
And  warm  my  chilled  heart  eagerly 
At  the  same  dream  that  died  in  me  — 
Lord  Love,  how  long  ago! 


[101] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  SPRING  — AND  YOU 

1O  shyly  came  the  Spring  this  year, 

We  knew  not  when  it  came; 
We  scarce  had  thought  it  might  be  near, 
When  lo,  the  boughs  aflame 


w 


ITH  tremulous  gold  and  crimson  fires  - 

Spring  Beauty  starred  the  lawn. 
Like  children's  laughter  were  the  choirs 
Of  waking  birds  at  dawn; 


A 


ND  while  we  stared  as  in  a  dream, 

And  wondered  if  'twere  true, 
Merry  with  cowslips  was  the  stream, 
And  all  the  roadside  blue. 


T?  RE  we  could  triumph  in  the  first 
•*-'     Lone,  long-expected  flower, 

It  seemed  the  frozen  world  had  burst 

To  blossom  in  an  hour. 

[102] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  SPRING  — AND  YOU  (continued) 

T    IKE  Spring  you  stole  upon  me,  dear 
••"^     I  knew  not  when  nor  how. 

I  only  know  that  you  are  here, 

And  life's  in  blossom  now. 


[103 


THE     ROADSIDE    FIRE 


PARTNERSHIP 


VTOUR  eyes  the  dawn  that  gives  me  wing 
•*•       To  rise  my  best, 

And  mine  the  twilight  stars  that  bring 
Your  hour  of  rest. 


hands  our  common  strength  to  do 
Bright  deeds  and  bold, 
And  mine  your  life's  great  rudder  true 
By  faith  to  hold. 


\7'OUR  breast  my  shelter  from  the  dread 
Of  days  too  dreary, 


And  mine  a  pillow  for  your  head 
When  you  grow  weary. 


'TA 

•*• 


HUS  linked,  to  meet  in  comrade-trust 

Each  changing  hour, 
And  at  the  end,  to  know  our  dust 

Merged  in  one  flower. 

[104] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


w 


D 


AFTERWARD 

HEN  weary  soul  and  body  are  at  rest, 
Dream  not  your  head  is  pillowed  on  my 

breast 

Lightly,  and  yet  so  close  that  you  can  hear 
My   heart,   and   feel   my  half-unconscious 

kiss 
Upon  your  drowsy  lids  —  ah,  dream  not 

this! 
You  would  but  waken  —  and  remember, 

Dear. 

REAM  rather  I  have  kept  the  old-time  vow 

Made  half  in  jest  —  do  you  recall  it  now? 

And  from  the  Silence  have  come  back  to  you 

To  watch  beside  you  for  our  love's  dear 

sake, 
And  bless  you  as  you  sleep.     Then  do  not 

wake, 
Beloved,  but  dream  on  —  that  dream  is  true. 

[  105  ] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


TO  HER —  UNSPOKEN 

O  to  him,  ah,  go  to  him,  and  lift  your  eyes 

aglow  to  him; 
Fear  not  royally  to  give  whatever  he  may 

claim. 
All   your    spirit's   treasury   scruple   not   to 

show  to  him. 
He  is  noble  —  meet  him  with  a  pride  too 

high  for  shame. 

QAY  to  him,  ah,  say  to  him  that  soul  and  body 
^         sway  to  him; 

Cast  away  the  cowardice  that  counsels  you 

to  flight, 
Lest  you  turn  at  last  to  find  that  you  have 

lost  the  way  to  him  — 

Lest  you  stretch  your  arms  in  vain  across  a 
starless  night. 


[  106 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


TO  HER  — UNSPOKEN  (continued) 

IDE  to  him,  ah,  be  to  him  the  key  that  sets 
^         joy  free  to  him  — 

Teach  him  all  the  tenderness  that  only  love 

can  know  — 
And  if  ever  there  should  come  a  memory  of 

me  to  him, 

Bid  him  judge  me  gently  for  the  sake  of 
long  ago. 


[107] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  UNKNOWN  GOD 

BUILT  of  dreams  a  temple  cool  and  white; 
I  shut  from  human  sight  its  halls  untrod, 
And  kindled  me  a  small  expectant  light 
Upon  an  altar  to  the  Unknown  God. 


i 


B 


I 


UT  in  my  folly  I  was  not  content 
To    wait    his    coming    by    the    perfumed 

flame; 

Vainly  to  seek  him  in  the  world  I  went 
That  in  my  worship  I  might  speak  his  name. 

FOLLOWED  wandering  fires  and  often  lost 

The  path  I  trod  too  eagerly  to  see ; 
After  long  years  I  learned  at  bitter  cost 
How  little  all  my  pains  might  profit  me. 


w 


HEN  to  my  temple  I  crept  home  at  last 
Marred    was    its    beauty  —  soiled    and 

smeared  with  clay 
Where  feet  profane  the  unguarded  door 

had  passed, 
And  the  untended  fire  in  ashes  lay. 

[108] 


THE    ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  UNKNOWN  GOD  (continued) 


to  the  Road  the  door  stands  open  wide 
And  cuts  the  darkness  with  a  sword  of 

light 

That  weary  wayfarers  may  turn  aside 
And  find  within  a  lodging  for  the  night. 


altar-fire  glows  generous  and  warm, 
And  even  now  a  pilgrim  leaden-shod 
With    weariness,    takes    refuge    from    the 
storm. 

Lo,  in  his  temple  stands  the  Unknown  God. 


[109] 


THE     ROADSIDE    FIRE 


THE  PATTERAN 

rOU  set  the  Patteran  for  me 

Along  the  world  you  wandered  through, 
Lest  mazed  and  weary  I  might  be 
And  miss  the  way  that  led  to  you. 


H 


OW  oft  at  open  doors  aglow 

Have  I  delayed  my  restless  feet 
And  wondered,  "Shall  I  further  go?" 
For  just  a  hungry  heart's  quick  beat, 


w 


HEN  on  the  threshold  I  have  seen 

Your  woodland  signal  where  it  lay 
With  onward-pointing  finger  green 
To  warn  me  that  I  might  not  stay. 


T 


HE  Gypsy  knew  the  Gypsy's  call  — 

It  led  my  wayward  feet  aright. 
Together  as  the  shadows  fall 
We  kneel  our  roadside  fire  to  light. 

[no] 


THE    ROADSIDE     FIRE 


THE  PATTERAN  (continued) 


T 


T 


HE  fire  we  kindle,  hand  to  hand 

Shall  cheer  the  way  for  weary  men, 
Till  our  great  Chieftain  give  command 
"  Break  camp  and  take  the  road  again.' 

HEN,  Love,  whoever  goes  before, 

If  it  be  you,  if  it  be  I, 
Shall  set  the  Patteran  once  more 
Across  the  spaces  of  the  sky. 


[in] 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


JUN  16  1948 


23May'51LU 


.•' 


LD  21-100i»-9,147(A5702sl6)476 


.XC/ 02664 


345091 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


